Harry Potter and the War of Wars
by WonderfulWriter15
Summary: My take on the 6th Harry Potter book. Hope you guys like it. Please no flamers....and that includes " That sux" If you want to say that, say that with a reason for why it sucks! Thanks! R&R!
1. The Beginning of it All

A tall man with dark hair that swung into his tanned face barked with laughter as he dodged yet another green light from the lady in front of him. It was amazing how alike they looked; yet, there was a dark gleam that loomed in the lady's charcoal eyes, which didn't exist in the man's eyes. With another stroke of her wand, a flashing blue light sped out and darted towards the man, who easily leaned to one side in order to block it.  
  
" That the best you can do, Bella?" The man scoffed at her in only a way that he could. He had always been on his cousin's nerves, ever since he gave her identity up as a Death Eater, and now she wanted him dead.  
  
" Not at all Black, not at all...." A cynical grin spread onto the lady's thin, pretty face while her sunken in eyes glared with the utmost sincerity. The two rounded about each other, but only the lady, Bella, had her wand out. Black obviously needed one, as she continued to shoot spells at him, sometimes missing him by centimeters. Light after light, the man dodged it, sometimes the end of the spark would hit his hair, causing a simmering sizzle at the end of the raven strands of hair. But even as Bella drew closer, cornering him, Black still laughed.  
  
The thin man was bent over, moving slowly, only speeding up when a light came towards him. Occasionally his head would turn to look at a young boy who was teetering the edge of the thought of jumping towards him. Another man held the boy by the arm, refusing to let go. The boy kept screaming a name, " Sirius!"  
  
' Now you've gotten the boy attached have you, Blackie?" The woman neared him with every step she took. The irony in her babyish voice tore at the man, reminding him of days when his cousin Bella hadn't been on the dark side, she had been innocent. With a sneaky grin, the man pulled out a wand from behind his back and pointed it at Bella.  
  
" Think I'd go against you without a wand now? How stupid do you think I am?" With that he shot out a spell that missed her by millimeters, causing her to squeal like a frightened child and back away a few feet. Her eyes widened, and a confused look overpowered her thin, wasted face. For a few fine seconds she looked at the ground, her face drenched in sweat, and her arms down. She looked as if she'd given up, and Sirius gave into that. Slowly and warily he lowered his wand, laughing slightly, he thought he had won.  
  
The pursed lips of Bellatrix LeStrange opened just slightly to mutter a curse, a deadly curse that was sure to hit her cousin, which she detested. A smoky mist swept up from the tips of her fingers, which gripped her wand, and spun clockwise; it was a tornado of death that lingered ever so closer to Sirius. It sped up, twisting itself into a tight spiral and becoming a jet of light. Sirius, in his ignorance, had not seen this, and was facing the boy to show him he was alright- that he had won. As he turned back around with laughter filling his tight face the spell hit him square in the chest.  
  
The man, Sirius Black, took a deep breath like he was getting ready to dive into water, but the breath was scattered. His dark eyes widened with shock while his feet danced around the floor, stumbling and tripping over them. Through his lips, which were turning a deathly blue, he whispered his last words.  
  
" I'm so sorry, Harry."  
  
His bodies finished shutting down in an instant as he gave weigh to the weight of his body and fell behind the veil he had been battling Bellatrix near. The floor gave a thud as his body hit it, and with that thud the lady let out a cackling laugh at the top of her lungs. It sounded like what Sirius' laugh had sounded like, but darker.  
  
" SIRIUS!" Harry Potter let out a tremendous scream as he saw his Godfather die before his very eyes, only to find out that he had dreamed what he had seen. Still, the horrible images that had played against his eyelids made his shudder violently. With an enormous amount of strength, Harry tried to calm himself down while hoping that the Dursleys did not hear his screams. But sure enough, a raspy, high-pitched voice rang out outside his bedroom door.  
  
" Harry Potter, what on earth is going on?" The shrill voice sent Harry straight up, only to fall out of the bed. He crawled around on the floor for a few moments to find his glasses, which had fallen, off the bedside table during his sleep. After his fingers grasped the rims of his glasses and he had replaced them to their natural place on his face, he answered his Aunt Petunia in a low, quiet tone.  
  
" I'm alright.it was just a dream." His voice still shook with suppressed emotion; he hadn't been dreaming. The dreadful scene that had played back in his head had actually happened. His Godfather, Sirius Black, was dead. Every night since Harry was let out of school he saw the same thing, the same dream. Every time he witnessed the same last words that he could only imagine Sirius having said, since he couldn't hear him when he was killed. Harry had never avenged his Godfather's death; Bellatrix LeStrange had gotten away, or rather Voldemort had taken her away. Harry wished with all her might that the Dark Lord had killed the nasty woman by now. Just the thought of her made his whole body shake with anger. She had killed the one person in the world whom Harry loved most.Sirius.  
  
Aunt Petunia hadn't answered, which could only mean that she had left him alone again. Lupin, Tonks, and Mad-Eye had warned her about keeping Harry locked up. For that Harry was extremely grateful. His room had been flooded with letters from all of his friends, the Order members, and some people he had never come into contact with before. It was all so overwhelming; sometimes he wished that he could be left alone. All the sympathy cards and ' I'm so sorry" letters just made the hole in his stomach grow more rapidly than before. Unlike last summer, he was flooded with news- the Daily Prophet had been coming daily to deliver more news on the immense number of murders that had taken place in the wizarding world. He thought it would make him satisfied to know about what was going on, but the constant headlines of " 20 DIE IN MASSIVE ATTACK" or " VOLDEMORT STRIKES AGAIN" caused Harry's stomach to ache most unpleasantly.  
  
His green eyes covered in black-rimmed glasses peered around the room at the mountain of cards, chocolate frogs, and letters. The straight-lined lips and the bored expression on his face changed gradually to a deep frown as he inspected one letter from his ex-professor and friend to his late Godfather, Remus Lupin. It didn't even mention Sirius in it, but flirted dangerously with the subject of the Animagus. In a few sentences Remus mentioned how Sirius would have wanted him to do this or that. Anger boiled up inside of Harry; how could Lupin know what Sirius wanted for Harry? It wasn't like the two sat down and talked about what he had wanted for Harry just in case he died. He didn't know he going to die. It was Harry's fault. Just the mere thought of this caused Harry's eyes to burn with tears. It wasn't enough that his parents had been taken away from him, but now Sirius, his second father, had been killed protecting Harry. One downcast look at the parcels in his room reminded him of how much he longed for a letter from Sirius to be delivered as it used to. He yearned to hear just a few words from him, and he would give anything for his father like figure to come back to life. To spring up from the veil with a sly grin on his thin, wasted face.  
  
With a few tears trickling down his face, Harry closed his eyes as hard as he could and attempted to shake off the need to cry. He needed to cry, he needed to scream as loud as he could, and he needed Sirius back. Sometimes, he would sit up in his bed staring at the ceiling, talking to Sirius. He knew that he wouldn't talk back, but just to try to get through, to tell him his troubles with Dudley, to spill everything that had been going on to the only one that understood, was comforting. At times he would lie there and close his eyes, imagining Sirius' dark and mischievous face gazing at him and laughing, speaking of Harry's resemblance to James. If anything, Harry promised himself he would never forget Sirius' bark of a laugh, or his lopsided grin, or the way he pranced around like the happiest man of earth when they spent Christmas with him last year. He had to keep alive the spirit of Sirius even if he was gone.  
  
Harry choked slightly on his own tears while wringing his hands together. His train of thought was broken as Aunt Petunia screeched up the stairs that dinner was ready. Weakly, Harry stood and regained his balance before he went to the door. He wasn't hungry, but why ruin the way the Dursleys were treating him? For once, he wasn't the disturbed boy who lived in Dudley's old toy room; he was another boy in the family. In a rather selfish way, he wished that they would go back to hating him. He already felt sorry for himself about losing one of his best friends and mentors, he could add on another few fits of sobs with self-pity to fill the gap in his heart that only his Godfather could fill. In one of Hermione's letters, she had begged him not to feel sorry for himself, and to try his best to put Sirius' death behind him. At first the letter had disgusted him; she was telling him to try to forget such an important person in his life. But in a few weeks time, he had started to understand what she was saying.  
  
With his hand on the wooden rail of the stairway, Harry made his way downstairs and turned to the kitchen where he would attempt to ignore the depression he felt and eat something.  
  
Three pairs of eyes glanced his way as he entered the kitchen. For a few seconds he felt like a circus animal, put on display for others to gawk at. He so badly wanted to snap at them, tell them off for staring at him like he had tentacles growing from his head, but he refrained from the urge and sat himself down. With a fork he prodded his eggs into a pile after nibbling at bits and pieces of the bacon. No one spoke, it was almost silent save the loud smacking of food which was performed so grotesquely by his pig of a cousin.  
  
A glance at his Aunt almost made Harry spit his food out with laughter. She sat impatiently, her lips pursed into a tight line, and her eyes were large white and grey plates. He knew that look. She only gave anyone that look when she wanted to start a conversation she dreaded. Harry saved her her breath as he got up and without asking if he could be excused, left the silent table. Immediately after he left the room a soft chatter started. He had predicted this; all three of the voices he knew so well muttering, no doubt it was about him, or " his kind."  
  
With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Harry mosied back upstairs to plump onto his bed. The bed shook slightly as he let his body fall down on top of the covers. Hedwig hooted softly at him, but he ignored her. With his face in his pillow, he inhaled and exhaled, hoping that whatever rain cloud that hovered above him would fade. For about twenty minutes he just sat there in the dark of the room, smelling the covers which had just been washed. His eyelids drooped every now and then as his mind and sleep had a tug-of-ward fight.  
  
Through the silence he heard distant voices he knew were not the Dursleys. With one swift movement his head and shoulders were upright and staring out his bedroom window. While cocking his head to one side, Harry slowly and silently got up and tip-tied towards the window. With his hands on the windowsill and his head peering out the window, Harry spotted two figures in Mrs. Figg's side window. They seemed to be arguing. A deep look on interest crossed over Harry's face as he leaned closer, as if trying to reach Mrs. Figg's window from his. That was a mistake. A loose board cracked loudly and with a large THAWP, the board split from the windowsill and dropped into the bushes below.  
  
The sound of the board crashing seemed to slice the silence that inhabited the sleep road. Just as Harry had dreaded, the two figures in the window of Mrs. Figg's house stopped dead in their argument and both stared towards his direction. Harry made a desperate move to get out of the view, but two eyes caught sight of him first. The figure's mouth dropped open at first and muttered something vague that was in no way within hearing distance of Harry. The eyes squinted, now slits in the figure that glowed relentlessly. With piercing eyes on Harry, the figure muttered something else hurridly before turning, disappearing in the house, and running out the front door into the night. A wave of sleep came crashing in on Harry as a tidal wave would, and knocked him straight off his feet into his bed. He fought as hard as he could to keep awake, but sleep prevailed. Before slipping into unconsciousness, he muttered something to himself that he would have to find out.  
  
" What the hell was that?" 


	2. The Wand Incident

Harry's green eyes fluttered open to the rays of brilliant sunshine that strayed into his window. With a slightly groggy feeling, he turned over in his bed to view the alarm clock that had been there before he had moved it. Miraculously, Dudley hadn't destroyed it when this room had been his playroom. He let out a soft groan as the digital time came into view. It was only 7 o' clock in the morning. As hard as he tightened his eyes shut his mind could not rest again.  
  
" Might as well.." He mumbled into his pillow while he lifted himself off the bed and strode towards the dresser to get some clothes. For a moment while changing into his work shirt he had forgotten all that had gone on last night. How he had witnessed such oddness coming from Mrs. Figg's house, the mysterious stranger, and his sudden deep sleep. He knew he would have a long day of garden and yard work to do, so he might as well beat Uncle Vernon to the garden to escape his yelling.  
  
As quietly as possible Harry opened the door to his room and crept down the stairs. Every day he did the same thing in the garden; his schedule only varied when Aunt Petunia came home with a new array of potted plants to be smothered in the ground. Without really noticing what he was doing, Harry grabbed the hoe that sat in the front cupboard and only paused to look at the cramped space. He couldn't believe that that used to be his room. With a large sigh he turned to exit the door.  
  
The ground outside was extremely damp. It must have rained last night after he had fallen to sleep. His shoes sloshed through the grass as he made his way back to the garden in the backyard. He lowered himself to the ground only to ruin the old workpants more as the grass and mud sunk into them. His hands slowly worked around the flowers in the garden while the early sunshine beat down on his back. Mid-July was not a good time to be outdoors all day, but if he wanted to keep the Dursleys happy, he needed to.  
  
His eyes shifted towards the house across from number 4 to see Mrs Figg exit her house and look around at the morning view of the neighborhood. Within seconds, Harry had leapt up and started to run across the road.  
  
Mrs Figg spotted him quickly with her squinty grey eyes. With a deep breath, she turned and started to walk back inside. But before she entered she called out to Harry with a sly grin on her face.  
  
" Harry..take a few minutes off from Dursley Work. I sure they won't mind you gone for a bit."  
  
His eyes lit up at the mention of getting out of the hot sun and into her house, even if it smelled like cabbage. Everything was still the same; the pale yellow carpet that lined the ground and the many cats scurrying around. But as Harry turned the corner to the kitchen he spotted something unfamiliar to his eyes. Another wand. He knew from being here again and again that Mrs Figg never kept her wand in sight in fear that muggles would see. What was it doing out?  
  
" Mrs Figg...um.." He lowered his tone of voice slightly," why is your wand sitting out?" A glance showed him Mrs Figg was scampering about the kitchen in search for her cakes she and Harry always had. She shook her head and smiled.  
  
" Why dear? It's right here with me...'  
  
" No.its not. It's here.."  
  
Harry could have sworn that she was about to hit him when she turned around. Her expression was one he had never seen on her gentle face before, a stern look. With a swift movement Mrs Figg was beside him, gazing at the wand, and before he knew it she was shouting about in German.  
  
"Wie sich trauen, verlässt sie das dort! Sie weiß, dass ich in Schwierigkeiten dafür kommen konnte! Gott, dieses Mädchen!"  
  
Harry stood there wide-eyed, staring from Mrs Figg to the wand and back. The older lady continued to rant about in the foreign language. With a roll of his eyes, the soon to be sixteen year old slumped down in a chair and started to question the lady.  
  
" Um..if its not yours.whose is it?'  
  
Her normally kind, gentle eyes fluttered with a dangerous look as she looked back at Harry. He could tell something was wrong; he wished he could take back that question. Mrs Figg took some small steps towards him, then stopped, and stared him right in the eye.  
  
" A lady by the name of Venna." Figg answered with a rather disgruntled look. She obviously wasn't happy with this Venna. The look continued to grow on her face as she picked the wand up and stuffed it in her pocket. " I'll have to give it back to her."  
  
Harry didn't think before asking his next question; a stupid act he would regret.  
  
" Is that the person you were arguing with last night?"  
  
The interesting expression on Figg's face dropped along with the color in her face until it was pale. He knew that that defiantly wasn't the right question. He tried to stammer in an apology, but Figg beat him to it.  
  
" You were watching that? My God, Harry you need to remove your nose from where it doesn't belong!" With seeing Harry's new reaction she added softly. " I'm sorry Harry. It's just.. you really shouldn't be getting into this."  
  
Mentally he was wondering what exactly he was getting into. Did it have anything to do with the Order? He hadn't heard anything about it or from it since his last letter from Lupin, and the ex-professor had sent that letter at the beginning of the summer. He had had a growing curiosity about the Order; maybe Figg would have some answers.  
  
His train of thought was broken by the stare that Figg was giving him. It seemed that she was just as curious about what he was thinking as he was with her. The awkward stare lasted for a few moments before Harry decided to leave.  
  
" I'll talk to you later Mrs Figg."  
  
Harry found Dudley lounging out on the front porch on his way back. Though it seemed that the Dursleys had softened up to Harry, he still didn't want to poke fun at Dudley. Lupin had warned him in his last letter that although he had been excused from his expulsion with the incident of the dementor, poking magical fun at his cousin was hardly any reason for them to excuse him again.  
  
He decided to take Lupin's advice and steer clear of Dudley in everyway. Harry crept past the obtuse figure carefully while aiming for the doorway in. But in the action, Harry's foot got caught under a piece of porch furniture. He fell backwards, landing smack on top of Dudley.  
  
His cousin gave a startled snort before jumping up, sending Harry flying the other way. Dudley's squinty blue eyes warned Harry that trouble was ahead, but Harry saw no way to escape it. The large boy was blocking the doorway, and Harry could see his stupid little gang bunching up at the end of the drive. They always appeared when this happened; Harry was beginning to think this was their version of an action movie.  
  
" Wanna fight Harry?" Dudley was just itching to hit him.Harry could feel it. Instead of answering he just gave a roll of his eyes and tried to get around the larger figure. He failed at it miserably. What he would give for his wand at the moment. He'd have to do some quick thinking.  
  
His cousin grew closer to him, causing Harry to back off the porch. In that instant Harry slipped past the monster and into the door. Dudley did his best to chase after him, but the door was quicker.  
  
Harry grabbed the doorknob and slammed the door in Dudley's face. At that moment the door decided to blow up infront of Harry. The noise was deafening; Harry held his hands up to his ears in order to keep his hearing.  
  
Once his heart rate went back to normal, he gazed at the empty doorway where the door used to be. The door had literally been knocked off its hinges and charged itself at Dudley. Harry had most defiantly not done that.  
  
Fear in his cousins eyes grew rapidly as he attempted to get up from the wreckage of the doorway. Harry's mind worked quicker than his cousin's body. His eyes darted to the driveway where Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were driving back from Vernon's business meeting. The boy took off running, but as he did, he could have sworn he heard a lady's distant laugh from the top of the roof. Maybe it was just him.. 


	3. Pitch Black Hilary

" Yes, Percy I've got it all planned out......you can go now."  
  
The strangely tense voice of Cornelius Fudge rang out in the silence of the main offices in the Ministry of Magic. He had been sitting there for hours, sorting out interveiws, writing up new discoveries, and answering letters from Ministry men across the globe. His Junior Assistant, Percy Wealsey, had been helping his sort ancient books that foretold what would happen if You-Know-Who rose for a second time. Dumbledore had tried so hard to stomp into Fudge's head how positively obvious this return was, but Fudge thought he had been revitively good at ignoring him, until now. Signs had started to appear. Every day new news would flood from citiies all over; Voldemort was indeed at large again, and the Ministry was in dissary.  
  
The little man began to hum as he drifted over a document by an old Order member. One that recalls the times before when You-Know-Who was at large, destroying families, ripping the wizarding goverment down the middle, and turning loyal friends into enemies. This particular member was long gone, dead. She had been murdered by raging Death Eaters shortly after the murder of Lily and James Potter. Potter. He had tried his hardest to forget all about the Potter boy, but somehow the lack of thought of him took away a puzzle peice in the mystery of You-Know-Who's return. Could Potter have really seen Him return that day at the Triwizard Tournament? But that would mean that He would have been powerful for well over a year now. The Ministry wasn't ready for this.  
  
But according to too many other wizards, Dumbledore's real army, the Order of the Pheonix, was ready to fight back. Fudge didn't like this fact at all. The Ministry was in charge, not Albus Dumbledore, so why did he act as though he knew what to do? The werewolf ex-teacher, Remus Lupin, who was a strong follower of Dumbledore and hater of Fudge had argued with him not so long ago about a strange topic, one that Fudge hadn't heard in well over three years. The matter of Sirius Black. When scoping out the Department of Mysteries in extreme caution they had found non other than the late Sirius Black. It had enraged Fudge, Black had been working with You-Know-Who.....that's why he was in there with the foolhardy students of Hogwarts. Lupin hadn't liked this at all. Fudge had seen a fire in the monster's eyes which he had not seen since the fateful day, sixteen years ago, when his loved ones had been taken from him. He had yelled so loudly many other working became infuriated with the noise; "Sirius was not a traitor!" Lupin argued that Fudge was completely ignorant to regect Dumbledore's calling to the Order. The man had grown so uncontrolled that Fudge had ordered Wealsey to get him out of there.  
  
While thinking these linked thoughts the wind howled outside in the pitch black night. Rain pounded on the windows so hard that Fudge continued to get louder in his humming. One large gust of wind flew in from the halfway open window and slammed the door shut behind Fudge.  
  
Fudge's small, brown eyes widened in anxiety. He hated being alone at night in the MInistry, though he knew that dozens of other workers were still here. He turned his head quickly, eyeing the room cautiously to see if any strangers had swept in with the wind. Nothing. His desk was in perfect shape, his papers were a little blown but alright, his pictures of his small family hung on the walls. Everything was alright.  
  
He sat himself down again and let the tune he was humming come out again, this time a little softer so he could observe. His small ears perked up suddenly with a soft clicking noise that had come from the far end of his office. He strained his neck to see if anything was there, but so far his eyes could see nothing. He busied himself with work again. But with another large clucking sound he removed himself from his seat and backed against the wall; someone was there.  
  
Sure enough, a shapely figure rose from the darkness of the corner. Long, raven hair flowed down to the figure's back, a pointed, white face taunted him carelessly. A soft, nagging, lullaby voice emerged.  
  
" Fudge......come play........."  
  
His breath was caught in his throat, the mere sight of the woman drove him to let out a whimper. How had she gotten in? The flowing green robes of the tyrant only covered a little less than half of her body, a little more than Fudge wanted to see. A sly smile was spread across her blood red lips, while her charcoal eyes glazed in the triumph of catching him alone. The dark pits that he would normally call eyes were sunken in, like so many of the captives at Azkaban. They glowed with only one solitary description- evil. Her thin arms were stretched out across his filing cabinent, and her long, bony fingers wrapped around his newest trophey for Person of the Year in the Daily Prophet. His teeth gritted together as the woman gripped it and brought it close to her bossom. The smile hadn't gone yet; he wished it would so terribly.  
  
Fudge found it almost impossible to breathe as the strangely familiar lady drew closer and closer to him. In the light, he could see exactly how gaunt looking the lady was, how haggard and hardened her face was. Her fingernails who gripped the trophey were painted a deep red, so deep of a red that Fudge was almost certain she'd painted them with blood instead of polish.  
  
" What? Scared?" She spoked up again, this time her voice grew harder, drilling into his head. His hands quickly drew themselves up and covered his face, his knees grew weak, he felt as though he might faint. With a small gaspy breath he let out the fateful name that had rightfully been given to the girl.  
  
" H...hilary....."  
  
Within seconds she had lept closer, slamming her feet into his chest. His short body had been thrown against the wall, her feet holding him up in the air. Her smile grew sideways as she laid her body across his desk, her arms knocking every picture and paper off. Her legs slowly merged together, pressing against either side of his neck, making breathing almost impossible.  
  
Then came the laugh. He had heard it once or twice before when she had mudered countless people, then escaped before any Ministry men could catch her. The cackle was so high pitched, it rang with malice, pure evil. She slammed her head backwards onto his desk, breaking the wood down the middle with only her head. She looked back up with wild eyes; eyes that looked strangely like Sirius Black's the night he had killed Peter Petigrew.  
  
Suddenly her feet dropped in pressure, causing Fudge's body to drop like a stone to the floor of his office. Hilary rose above him, smirking with pride at the hurt she had caused to the Minister of Magic. Her face dropped slowly; she lifted a frail hand to Fudge's chin and raised his face to look at hers.  
  
" Never thought you'd see me again, eh? Well, I've got news for you and your pathetic bunch of ministry officials........Voldemort's not the only one you should be afraid of."  
  
The name she uttered made Fudge shiver involuntarily. She laughed again. He could tell by how she acted that she had rebelled against her former leader, perhaps to create terror of her own. But where was the other one? Fudge only had a few seconds to question this before a new seering pain came to his face. She had taken her index fingernail, one that looked particularily like blood, and had torn the skin on his cheek open with it. Her facial expression then terrorized him. He realised what she must have been doing.  
  
His whole face burnt with the poison that had been in her fingernail poison. He felt like screaming harder than he ever had in his life, but he refrained when the monster backed off from him. She was now striding around his office, burning important files, breaking everything with value that her eyes could see. Her slender body froze as a voice rang out from the wrecking noises of Hilary.  
  
" Cornelius? What's going on in there?" The locked doorknob shook in panic. Fudge could see the wary look in the demonic girl's eyes as she turned and faced him. That same grin appeared from the grim look that had been plastered on her face moments before.  
  
With a great BANG, the woman transformed herself into a ebony raven that fluttered around the roof before breaking the window, flying into the night sky. Fudge sat there on the ground, breathless as he looked around at the damage Hilary had done. His face still burnt with pain, and feet marks were forming at his neck.  
  
" Alomahorma!" Another worker burst the door open only to have his mouth drop by the wreckage that the attacker of Fudge had made. He turned frantically to the panicked Fudge. The Minister of Magic opened his mouth, but at first nothing came out, then finally he managed to squeak the name of who had attacked him.  
  
" Hi...hilary Black....."  
  
The man stumbled backwards, confused by the Minister's obiously disturbed ravings. The lady he was talking about was gone, dead, never to bother the wizarding world again. But what he found burnt into Fudge's desk proved him wrong. In simmering wood, the letters swurved across the surface, " It has begun."  
  
WOOGY! Third chapter up..more to come if ya'll start reveiwin stuff. And yesh.there will be more on the mysterious Black lady..... 


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